


We Fall and Rise Again

by ThatFeanorian



Series: To Build The Bonds That Tie [3]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Celegorm loves his brothers, Celegorm loves his dog, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Maedhros is a good big brother, Marital Arguments, Quenya Names, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, but also hates them all, but only in speech, we're all just trying to do our best here and cope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23982772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFeanorian/pseuds/ThatFeanorian
Summary: Finwë's funeral leaves behind roaring tempers and a house that suddenly seems much too small for the arguments taking place inside of it. Abandoning the house on a rainy morning, Celegorm discovers much more about his eldest brother than he ever wanted to know and maybe a little about himself as well.A Story in two parts, one from Celegorm's perspective and the other from Maedhros'.
Relationships: Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Fëanor | Curufinwë, Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Huan, Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Maedhros | Maitimo, Celegorm | Turcafinwë & Maglor | Makalaurë, Fëanor | Curufinwë & Maedhros | Maitimo, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë, Maedhros | Maitimo & Sons of Fëanor, Nerdanel & Sons of Fëanor
Series: To Build The Bonds That Tie [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710157
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	1. The Weight of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This is set right after chapter one of From the Ashes, Rising, which is the first work in this series. It takes place the day after FInwë's funeral, so there's an obvious reason for some pretty raging emotions there. 
> 
> Ages are...  
> Maedhros - 12  
> Maglor - 10  
> Celegorm - 8  
> Caranthir - 5  
> Curufin (Junior) - 2

The Day After The Funeral (as Celegorm would later think of it) arrives with more rain and heavy oppressive mist, determined to make him upset about a person he has never known. He ignores it, jumping out of bed with a spring in his step as he whirlwinds around them room, dressing and then crawling into Huan’s dog bed, curling around the big grey-white dog until he wakes, letting out a huff of air and standing, hauling Celegorm with him. 

He bounds down the stairs two at a time, with a grin on his face and the excitement of a new day in his eyes, only to hear the sound of something breaking, and to skid to a halt beside his brothers. Maedhros stands with Junior in his arms, sitting silently with big solemn eyes and wearing nothing but his diaper. His clothes dangle from Maedhros’s hand forgotten and useless as Celegorm suddenly realises why they are all frozen. From inside the kitchen, angry voices crescendo, and Celegorm hears his father growl,

“If you think I am going to give in to that pathetic spineless traitor, you can leave this house and go count yourself one of their number.” Celegorm’s heart seems to stop in his chest, and he inwardly scoffs at himself. His parents argue; that is what they do. There is no need for him to be upset over it.

And yet… the tone of his mother’s voice, the venom in his fathers, these are things he has never heard before and he has never wanted to. He would not admit it, but he is almost relieved when Maedhros gives a start, as if he had been asleep, and sets Junior down on the floor, beginning to dress him and saying,

“Come on, Tyelko, coat on please, we’re going for a walk.” Maedhros’s voice is calm and controlled as he gently pushes Junior’s arms into the sleeves of his coat, but it is betrayed by his eyes which are panicked, like a helpless animal trapped in one of Celegorm’s secret holes in the woods. Maglor is clinging to his arm, sniffling, and when he sees Celegorm, he buries his face in Maedhros’s back, clearly expecting to be teased. 

But for once, Celegorm doesn’t want to tease his brother. Behind him, his parent’s voices are loud and angry, and he can hear his mother yelling,

“You worthless, stubborn piece of shit!” Instead, he grabs his own coat and quietly bundles himself into it, clipping on Huan’s collar, and waiting by the door as Maedhros puts on Junior’s muddy shoes from the day before while the little boy sits silently, his eyes wide and his thumb in his mouth. Behind the two of them, Caranthir sits stoically, his too-big hand-me-down clothes making him look tiny as Celegorm --to his own horror-- reaches out, taking his hand and helping him to his feet. Maedhros glances over, and seeing Huan shakes his head,

“No, please leave him here Tyelkormo.” He says gently, and Celegorm panics, tumbling to the ground in his haste to wrap around the big dog. He had been forced to abandon his best friend the day before, Huan is not staying behind. Perhaps sensing his fear, Maedhros lets out a long sigh, looking much, much older than twelve as he purses his lips and scrubs with his free arm at his eyes,

“Okay, fine, come on,” Maedhros says quietly, and the five of them exit the house, closing the door behind them with a gentle click. Even the expanse of wood does not manage to completely block out the sounds of their parents behind it. Maglor takes Maedhros’s free hand, leaving Celegorm and Caranthir to walk by themselves, and Celegorm wishes he had thought to put on a thicker jacket. The autumn air is freezing and bites at his exposed hands like ice, leaving him to ball up his fingers and shove them deep into his pocket. 

In Maedhros’s arms, Junior starts to struggle, letting out a single wail before Maedhros winces and acquiesces to his wishes, placing him down on the ground. He obviously thinks he is being subtle when he wipes his eyes again as he does so, but Celegorm sees. Junior’s steps are small, slowing them all down, and although Celegorm wishes that Maedhros would just pick him back up again, his eldest brother does not; letting Junior toddle his way down the road and keep them all from getting where they are going.  
Where are they going? Celegorm doesn’t know. Maglor has stopped crying now, though his fingers grip Maedhros’s so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, and he is so small next to Maedhros that Celegorm often forgets that they are only two years apart. Even he is larger than Maglor at this point, though right now Celegorm isn’t sure whether that is something to be proud of.   
Huan lets out a joyous bark and runs off into the woods that frame their street, and Maedhros turns worriedly back towards him. Celegorm shrugs in response to his gaze,

“He’ll be back. He always does.” They walk for what feels like forever, though when Celegorm looks back, he can still see the faint outline of their house through the mist.

“Where are we going?” Caranthir asks, his voice low and calm as it always is, and Celegorm looks to Maedhros, who is staring straight ahead as if he can see their destination, however far away and concealed by the mist. In the end, it is not he who answers, but Junior, jumping excitedly, tugging on Maedhros’s hand with a goofy grin on his face,

“Park! Park!” He shrieks, and Maedhros seems to consider this for a moment before nodding,

“Sure Junior, we can go to the park.” Celegorm looks at him in surprise. Normally Maedhros, with his hyper fixation on fitting in in Middle School, would have refused to escort them publically to the park, though Celegorm is not sure why this is. The park is a fun place, full of things for him to hang off of and climb, full of small hiding places where even his brothers cannot find him. Maedhros should love the park, the way he loves to do anything and everything with them when they are in private and there are no other eyes telling him how to behave.

“Nelyo, are we going to walk all the way there?” Caranthir asks practically, and Maedhros nods absentmindedly as Maglor shouts out indignantly,

“No, Nelyo that will take a whole hour!” And Celegorm’s heart sinks, he wants to go to the park, but the idea of walking all the way there through this disgusting freezing fog is somehow quite off-putting. Maedhros glances over at Maglor and shakes his head quickly, quirking it in Junior’s direction, but Maglor doesn’t seem to get the message as he continues to complain,

“I can’t walk that far, it’s impossible!” His feet are dragging over the cement now, and Junior, seeming to sense uncertainty in their plan, plops down on the wet sidewalk, rocking back and forth, and starts to cry. Caranthir scowls at all of them, tugging his hand from Celegorm’s grasp and whining,

“I don’t want to, Nelyo, I want to go home.” Maglor stomps his foot angrily, Caranthir crosses his arms over his chest, face flushing dangerously, and Junior overbalances in his rocks, flopping onto the back on the sidewalk and letting out an ear-piercing scream. For the first time in his life, Celegorm sees Maedhros overwhelmed, and he is shocked when his brother drops to the sidewalk, right beside Junior, and buries his head in his hands, starting to cry. A hush falls over the street, broken only by the moaning wind and Junior’s continued sobbing as he pounds the wet pavement beneath him. 

“Nelyo?” Maglor asks quietly, but their older brother does not respond, only burrows farther in on himself, shaking with the weight of his tears. He looks so small as he sits on the edge of the abandoned grey road, only a shadow of what he usually is when he is smiling and laughing and swinging them all around in circles, and for the first time in a long time, Celegorm is afraid. If Maedhros (his strong, tall, smart big brother) can look this lost and helpless there must be some possibility that he could be too.

And he hates Maedhros, hates him for being able to be so weak, for giving up right here on the street when they need him the most, for not being as strong as a twelve-year-old is supposed to be… there are a million reasons he hates Maedhros, but none of them will come out, instead, boiling in an angry bubble deep in his stomach.

He glares over at Maglor, fixing him with the same angry scowl he gives to the kids at school who try to take the swing set before him and pushes him away,

“Fuck off Káno.” He mutters angrily, using the worst word he has ever heard -- and only once, a quiet breath of exhaled air when his father found out that Grandpa Finn was dead. It has become his favourite word, a mean nasty word that he doesn’t understand but that makes every one twitch and move away from him when he wants to be alone.  
This time proves no different, Maglor stumbles backwards a few steps, fixing him with one searingly hot scowl before stomping off to the other side of the empty road, and a moment later Caranthir follows, his hands reaching out for Maglor in a rare display of neediness. Junior has quieted, seeing that no one seems to care if he is on the ground or soaking wet, and merely lies face down on the sidewalk, sniffling. 

There is a clap of thunder in the distance, and as if on queue, the mist turns into a light rain, the dark clouds on the horizon threatening a much larger storm if they do not move quickly to get inside. Celegorm approaches Maedhros quietly, the way he would one of the small frightened animals he finds in the woods, and sits beside him, brushing just the tips of his fingers over Maedhros’s.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks softly, sure that that must be the root of his brother’s disquiet, and Maedhrosdhros’ body give one colossal shudder before it stills, with his voice muffled by his coat and his legs he whispers,

“I don’t know Tyelkormo, we don’t have anywhere to go.” Debating for a moment, Celegorm decides this qualifies as one of the emergency moments in which his brother matters more than being cool and shifts closer, snuggling into Maedhros’s side and wrapping his arms around the larger figure. Junior stands silently, with his clothes dripping wet, and pastes himself to Maedhros’s other side, where he says softly,

“You scared.” Sometimes, Celegorm is shocked by just how mature the miniature boy is. One moment he is throwing a tantrum on a wet street, and the next he is putting into words what Celegorm could not manage to confront himself: Maedhros is scared. Maedhros looks up fully, his silver-grey eyes full of a torrent of emotions that Celegorm cannot begin to define, and he gives them a crooked smile,

“Nah, Junior, I’m not scared. It looks like the weather isn’t going to be good though, come on. We can...” He trails off, clearly unsure as to what they can do, and Maglor returns from across the street, grasping Caranthir’s hand firmly in his. Their hair is plastered to their heads by the rain and Maglor looks apologetically guilty. 

“Home,” Caranthir says firmly, “I want to go home.” Maedhros reaches down and pulls the soaking wet Junior into his arms, where he sits uncomplainingly, one small hand on Maedhros’s face.

“Scared.” He repeats as if it means everything in the world, and Maedhros looks so lost for a moment that Celegorm is sure it must be true, so he reaches out, taking Maedhros’s hand in his, and praying that this will make him remember that they are all here, in the street, and the rain is going to come, and they are going home.

“Come on.” He says and leads Maedhros back towards the faint silhouette of their big house in the distance, leaving the others to follow behind him as he leads the way back to the home he was only too eager to exit earlier that morning. Huan is waiting for them, muddy and soaked, panting happily as if he has just had the time of his life, but Celegorm takes one look at Maedhros’s face and says firmly,

“No, Huan, stay.”

The door has locked behind them, leaving Maedhros with no choice but to reach up and ring the bell, as they all stand under the rain. Celegorm’s father opens the door, his eyes still blazing with anger, and for a moment Celegorm is sure that he has made the wrong choice, that it will be his fault this time when Maedhros begins to cry, but instead, Fëanor’s mouth falls slightly open. It is not Maedhros’s eyes that are enveloped with tears, it is their father’s as he fully opens the door, 

“Well, come in then.” His words are stiff, but there is a tentative quality to them that makes Celegorm nervous again as he clutches at Maedhros’s hand. There is silence, total complete silence in the house as they file one by one into the kitchen, where Nerdanel stands, also speechless, and they take their seats. Breakfast is served, and they eat --cereal with fresh fruit-- in silence. 

“I’m sorry Mom, Dad,” Maedhros whispers, but no one responds, and Junior reaches over, placing his tiny hand over Maedhros’s mouth and saying,

“Shush.” A great bird seems to be swooping over them, like the ones Celegorm has read about in his books: huge and carnivorous, dangerous but beautiful; only this silence is not beautiful. It is terrifying and Celegorm is sure that if any one of them moves or dares to break the stillness that reigns, the bird will dive, and that person will not survive. Celegorm swirls his spoon around inside of the cereal and pretends to be eating while really sending quick glances up to the ceiling, each time expecting to see the bird, and each time rewarded with nothing but plain white. He is almost disappointed that it does not appear, because although a giant carnivorous bird would be terrifying, at least then he could fight it. He cannot fight the air or the phantom of his father’s anger that seems to hang over the room.

Fëanor suddenly lets out a large whoosh of air, and his head falls down into his hand as he rubs at his face. He looks up at Nerdanel, sitting silently at the other end of the table. Celegorm is silent, his eyes flickering around the room, watching for the bird, but the bird seems to have left, the force of his father’s sigh has blown it away.

“I’m sorry, Nerdanel, you’re right. I’ll call tomorrow.” His mother gives a slight nod, and then reaches over, gathering a shivering Maedhros into her arms,

“Okay, you five: shower, now, and then we can talk.” Celegorm shudders, annoyed that on top of everything today he is also going to be made to take a shower; but looking over at Maedhros, who is pale and bedraggled with his red hair plastered flat to the top of his head and beginning to drip, he decides that perhaps a shower today would not be the end of the world. Maybe it will wash away his memory of this whole sorry experience so that he never has to admit he has seen his brother cry.


	2. To Be Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snippet of family life after the fight, brotherly love, and Mae's self-esteem issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that the names here were all messed up, so reposted with the correct names and not whatever those were. Sorry!

Maedhros stands beneath the hot water, letting it pound down on the top of his head. He is numb, the tips of his finger’s still shivering with cold, and his skin has turned lobster red under the heat of the water. None of this matters though, as Maedhros is not really paying attention to his surroundings while he stares blankly at the wall before him because he has failed. He wasn’t able to take care of them all when it mattered the most.

Maedhros only knows one thing about who he is for sure, one thing that no one at school can take away or try to steal from him: He is a good brother. Suddenly, he is not so sure. Junior’s cries echo up the stairs from below where he is taking a hot bath and thoroughly rejecting the idea of warm water on his freezing skin, and Maglor, Caranthir, and Celegorm have disappeared off to wherever they go once their turn cleaning is over. 

The air steams around him, clogging his lungs with moisture and flying around in tendrils of curling sparkling water. Maedhros scrubs hard at his skin, the already angry red turning a shade darker in response to his rough treatment, trying to wipe off the sting of the rain, to tear away his failure and leave who he thought he was behind. He scrubs so hard that when he goes to dress again, his jeans chaff against his skin. 

The bathroom door opens with a rush of steam, evaporating into nothingness in the cooler room outside, and his parents sit side by side on the bed, waiting for him. His mother wears a gentle smile, his father a thoughtful frown, but Maedhros knows why they have come. No amount of posturing and pretending can ignore what a supreme failure he has just been to the role of an older brother.

He is supposed to be strong. He is supposed to be able to take care of them when they are upset, but he couldn’t. Instead, he left an eight-year-old to clean up his mess and broke down crying like Junior.

“Nelyo, baby, come here.” Nerdanel sits on the edge of the bed and Maedhros approaches her, his legs as heavier than a mountain as he drops down in the space his parents make between them. He sits slumped over, his eyes stuck on a spot somewhere between his knees,

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, and Nerdanel reaches over, rubbing soothing circles over his back,

“Honey, what are you sorry about?” She asks gently, and Maedhros looks up at her questioningly,

“I messed up. I couldn’t take care of them all. I was stupid, and--” Fëanor’s hand squeezes his, cutting him off soundlessly,

“Maedhros, you are only twelve years old. No one expects you to take care of four younger brothers all by yourself. It’s okay to need help sometimes.” Maedhros’s head swivels to his father, who is looking at him gently with his intense blue eyes,

“But-- but I couldn’t do it, and now they all hate me, and I let you down.” He whispers, trying to pretend there aren’t tears in his eyes again as Fëanor reaches over, wrapping his arms around him tightly,

“No, Nelyo, you have never let me down. I will always be proud of you.”

“Baby, you are the best brother anyone could hope for, they could never hate you,” Nerdanel says gently, her fingers still stroking down his spine,

“You are so kind, I don’t know any other kid who would take as much time to love those crazy kids as you do, beautiful.” Maedhros’s heart warms ever so slightly at the genuine smile on his mother’s face, and Fëanor chuckles,

“Crazy is certainly an apt word, and Maitimo, if it weren’t for you I’m not sure even the two of us would be able to fully corral them all. They adore you, son, and so do we.” Nerdanel shifts closer to him, rubbing a hand over his wet hair,

“I know we don’t tell you enough, sweetie, but we love you so much. There’s no one out there I would be prouder to call my son.” Maedhros is embarrassed when he sniffs, finally unable to stop his tears from once again tracing tracks down his cheeks, but instead of commenting on this latest digression from their expectations, Fëanor anFëanorrdanel only shift closer to him, hugging him tightly. 

Between them, warm and safe and not alone, Maedhros almost forgets why he is upset. Feeling wanted, loved, being enough, all of these are emotions that only come rarely and Maedhros wants nothing more than to soak them all up inside himself to a little treasure chest he can open when he needs to be happy. It is like a small fire, burning inside his chest and keeping away the ice that threatened to freeze over his insides as Junior cried on the cement, and Maedhros would be happy to sit there, sandwiched between his mother and father, finally feeling like there is something he is good at, forever.

Downstairs, his father lights a fire in the big stone fireplace of their living room and Maedhros sits on the floor, watching as Celegorm and Junior build towers of blocks and then smash them down with as much glee as if it is a third dessert they are being offered instead of a precariously crafted tower of wooden rectangles. Caranthir curls up silently into his mother’s side, a thick book in his hands. The cover reads ‘A Complete History Of The American Capitalist System’, and Maedhros shakes his head with a rueful smile. 

His crazy five-year-old brother, reading a study of American Capitalism. Fëanor slides onto the floor next to Maedhros, one arm going around him as he calls over to Celegorm,

“That one was a little too close to the fire, try to make sure he knocks it towards me please.” The air is sweet with the smell of fresh cookies that Nerdanel appears to have just taken out of the oven, and Maedhros is warm, snuggled against his father’s side and surrounded by his family. Maglor spins around suddenly from his previous position on the piano bench, his fingers ghosting over the keys without noise, and glances over at Maedhros, still looking sad and guilty. 

“Dad?” He asks quietly, and Fëanor glFëanors over at him,  
  
“Can I play a song?” he requests, leaving his father to nod encouragingly as his fingers hover a moment longer over the keys of the piano before sinking down with a talent that far exceeds his age. The keys blend together to create a beautiful river of sound that holds Maedhros captive and even brings Celegorm and Junior’s destructive game to an end for a moment as they watch Maglor play, his hands fluttering and tongue sticking out in focus as his fingers fly over the keys. It is beautiful, and although when he finally begins to sing, the lyrics are still hold all the sweet childish innocence they should, Maedhros thinks it is the most outstanding thing he has ever heard.

Maglor has come a long way from when the two of them would sit side by side and play ‘twinkle twinkle little star’ together, from the day Maedhros first lifted him up onto the seat and showed him how to press the keys and create sound.

He was born singing, that is what their parents say, and at the moment Maedhros cannot help but believe it. Maglor is ethereal with his damp hair falling on either side of his face and his pale fingers dancing, creating gentle chords that weave themselves into harmony. Maglor’s brow is scrunched in concentration, his eyes squinting as he invents the tune on the spot, and there is a melancholic undertone that Maedhros cannot help but feel vibrating deep in that part of himself that even now, surrounded by warmth and love, threatens to pull him deep and keep him hidden in the dark and cold, away from all the heat he could have hoped to feel.

Maglor’s fingers dance, they glide, they flutter, rise, and fall, and slowly the lugubrious undertone is replaced by something new, a rising tide of notes which tremble through the air on half-broken wings before gaining strength and planting themselves deep inside Maedhros with all the intense hope and beauty of a newly fledged songbird.

When his brother finally stops playing, Maedhros is breathless, waiting for the last note to finally disappear before Maglor hops off the bench with an embarrassed smile and joins Maedhros on the floor. As if the spell has been broken, Junior shrieks and kicks, sending the blocks tumbling down to the floor again as Nerdanel reappears in the doorway, setting steaming hot cookies on the table where Maglor eagerly grabs three, passing one to Maedhros and cramming one whole into his mouth with chocolate dripping hot and melted down his chin. 

Maedhros chews slowly, watching his little brother gulp down the sweet and immediately shove an enormous bite of the second into his mouth as if he cannot bear for the favour to dissipate even the slightest bit. He looks up at Maedhros, his mouth full and messy and says,

“Did you like my song?” except to Maedhros it sounds more like ‘dish ooh kckph mmh ong?’ Nevertheless, the two questions have the same general meaning, so Maedhros responds without comment,

“Of course I did, Káno. Did you have a name for it, or is it just ‘your song’?” Maglor swallows and frowns thoughtfully, looking up at Maedhros with his blue-grey eyes and saying softly,

“I don’t know if it has a name, but when I made it I was thinking about you, Nelyo.” Maedhros smiles as Maglor reaches for a third and fourth cookie, once again passing one to him, and wraps his arms tight around his little brother. 

“Thank you for writing about me. That’s a very important thing to have in my name.” Maglor grins goofily, chocolate staining his teeth,

“Yeah, someday when I get famous like Mozart you can say, ‘oh I know him he wrote a song for me. It’s called Maesong.’” Maedhros laughs, taking a bite of his own cookie and looks around the room at his big happy family, Caranthir and Nerdanel the couch quietly together, Celegorm and Junior shrieking and crashing woodblocks to the floor, and Maglor curls up into his side, who wrote a song for him. On his other side, Fëanor pulls both the two of them closer to him and whispers in Maedhros’s ear,

“See, you are loved.” And Maedhros feels that right now, that might just be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all want to see out more from this AU feel free o check out the rest of this series. I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> I've already written chapter two, it just needs some editing, so that should be up pretty soon.


End file.
